


From The Wide Sea

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Gen, Mentions of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a mad man standing in the surf and it's freaking Anders out, though Axl has no idea why or why he gets sent home -- but really, it's because Axl shouldn't have to deal with their father unless it's the last possible resort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Wide Sea

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, their father is played by [Gabriel Byrne](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Cvo4jwbe8wE/SdWpS5sHwoI/AAAAAAAACJk/tRayP2-QbFw/s400/gbitseason2no4crop2.jpg).

“...and besides the fact that she could’ve been the Frigg,” Anders is complaining as he and Axl walk along the boardwalk by the ocean, freshly from church where they had to leave in the middle of the mass when Axl started getting as fidgety as a newborn, “Hey!” he shouts, when Axl busies himself yanking off his tie rather than listening to Anders. “You’re supposed to care about this.”

“Anders,” Axl protests.

“Remember? You die, I die,” Anders says, poking two fingers into Axl’s chest. “And that means...”

Axl’s finally managed to win the battle against his tie, but he’s not sure why Anders has trailed off. Actually, he’s not sure why Anders looks as pale as he does, either, staring across the beach to where some old man is standing in the surf with his hands raised down to the waves as if praising downwards. “Weirdo,” Axl snorts. “Anders,” he prods. “You were saying?”

Anders tears himself away from his reverie and digs out his mobile phone. “Nothing,” is all he mumbles. “Go home, drink your face off, do whatever it is young people with no responsibilities and ever-dwindling brain cells do.”

Axl rolls his eyes, but he leaves before Anders can change his mind.

Out of earshot, barely, all he hears is, “Mike, it’s me. Fuck off, I know it’s early. We have a problem.”

Axl shrugs and doesn’t pay much attention. The last thing he needs is to get involved in family shit again when he’s enjoying a brief respite from all that crap. He heads back to the house with the intention to see if Zeb’s around to head to the pub.

* * *

Anders paces with phone pressed to his ear, hiding behind one of the public restroom structures along the beach. “I’m sure,” he says, the sick feeling in his stomach bringing him hurtling back to his past with an uncanny ability to fuck him up. “Seriously, what do I do?” Years ago, he’d stopped listening to Mike because the age difference between them wasn’t vast enough to support Mike acting like the end all and control freak be all. 

He’s not sure he likes the crackle of silence on the line. “Where are you?”

“At the beach, like I said, by St. Stephen’s,” Anders replies, peeking around the edge of the house. “I should talk to him. I can go and talk to him, right?”

“If he’s in Auckland, something’s up,” Mike says. “Wait there, I’ll come find you.”

“Yeah. Hey! Bring Olaf,” Anders says suddenly.

“Why?”

“Security,” Anders says stubbornly, burying back any of the fear behind the bravado and the belief that he has a plan in place that will keep him protected. He hangs up before they can get into another argument about what they ought to do, pacing back and forth and waiting for Mike to arrive. 

He’s expecting Olaf to wander lazily out of the back seat. He’s not expecting Ty.

Anders grabs hold of Mike’s sleeve and yanks him away from the other two, shooting Mike a look of abject disbelief. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” he hisses. “I wanted to do this civilly! You brought Ty, which basically means this is going to end in a brawl or someone dying.”

“Ty wanted to come and he deserves to see Dad.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Anders snorts. “He’s here so he can kill him, probably. I want him out of the city, end of,” Anders insists sharply, looking worriedly to where Ty’s standing. “You know how Ty feels about our father and now that Mum’s completely out of the picture, there’s probably a lot of pent-up rage and after that situation with the goddess of fucking death, I’m pretty sure we don’t want to unleash dark and messy Ty on the world again!”

“He has a right to be here, Anders,” Mike reminds him. “Where’s the god of the sea?”

“Where you’d expect,” Anders mutters, jutting a thumb out to the surf. “Standing knee-deep in it and praising it like the freak Dad always was soon as we got in sight of the ocean.”

If only he could use several well-placed words to convince their father to depart in the direction he arrived, this would be so much easier. The sick feeling has yet to subside and he knows that the shadow bruises he feels on his limbs and face are long healed, but it’s like even the sight of them has brought them back.

“Olaf,” Mike says heavily. “Do you think you can get him to leave without a fuss?”

“If he’s here,” Olaf notes darkly, “something must be up.”

“Yeah, real clear grandpa,” Ty mutters snidely. “Did you manage to get Axl out of here before he realized something was up?”

“I’m not entirely fucking useless, thanks, Ty,” Anders snaps. 

“Hey,” Olaf cuts in, a lazy flowing river compared to the bursts of angry emotion that have managed to capture Anders, Ty, and Mike up in its current. “I’m well aware that my son isn’t welcome in our lives, but there’s no reason to let him have this kind of control over the lot of you. He’ll be gone before you know it.”

“I wish he’d never come back,” Mike mutters.

They have strength in numbers. It’s the one thing they have. Mike leads with Anders not so far behind, Ty and Olaf lingering behind. The smell of the sea is strong in the air and Anders is aware that’s Njordr’s influence, as much as anything else. With smug and sick delight, Anders is grateful to see that their father hasn’t fared well.

“Good day for a surf,” Olaf calls over.

Anders steadies himself while their father turns around and brushes sand from off his hands calmly. “Well, then, the whole cavalry.” He looks through their ranks, disappointment flickering over his face. “Ah, all but one, I see. Where is Axl?”

“Not here,” Ty snaps tersely.

Mike reaches back to calm Ty with a hand pressed to his shoulder. “Dad, what the fuck?” he utters. “Fifteen years,” he stresses the words. “And you come back. Why?”

“Your mother came back, why shouldn’t I?”

“Our mother tried, multiple times, to either kill Axl or placed him in dangerous situations that could've gotten him killed,” Mike points out sharply. “You’ll forgive us if we stay a little suspicious about sudden visits from relatives.”

In some ways, it’s strange to see their father again. Mike had taken after him to a degree that it was almost scary, but age has separated them enough that Dad’s gone a bit wiry and the wrinkles are out in full force. “What is it?” Anders pipes up, aware he’s standing somewhat behind Mike, but he still remembers the full force of their father’s fists on his face and how his knee could steal Anders’ breath away because he wasn’t the man that his father wanted him to be.

Turns out, that was code for ‘not the god you’re meant to become’. Apparently, Bragi’s not exactly a man’s god. Ullr? Yeah, now, that fits right into the Johnson’s wheelhouse, not that Mike ever wanted to acknowledge his powers after Rob.

Behind them, Anders can practically _feel_ Ty stewing and getting ready to take a run at their father. This is either going to end with a bribe or someone being carted off in an ambulance, Anders is starting to get that feeling. “I came back because my boy is Odin,” he says. “That sort of word travels in the community. I’m here to make sure he’s on route to find the Frigg so that my powers will return in full. I want to be a proper god.”

Anders’ stomach turns to hear his own words echoed back at him.

“Axl is your son,” Mike says. 

“And you’re not getting your hands near him,” Ty interrupts, trying to force his way forward –and were it not for Olaf and Anders (so, mostly Olaf) restraining him, he’d probably get a lot further. “You abandoned us, which was the best day in my whole life. You should have stayed gone,” he warns. “You lay one hand on Axl and I swear, I swear that I will bring down the vengeance of the gods and goddesses on you and...”

“Ty,” Olaf interrupts.

“Quite the rabble-rousers you’ve been raising, Dad,” their father remarks. “Suppose the Johnson spirit lives in them, after all. Don’t worry,” he murmurs. “I won’t go near Axl. I don’t have to. I’m here to make sure you’re not going to fuck it up,” he says, looking from boy to boy.

In that moment, they’re not his sons.

They’re soldiers on a mission and the trouble is that they all want the same conclusion – for different reasons. “If things go off track or if you try and pull a fast one on me...well, boys,” he says calmly. “The fury of the sea isn’t something you want to go up against, now is it?”

“Fuck off,” Anders snaps. “Get the fuck out of Auckland. You love the sea so much? Go post yourself out on the open waters and you’ll know when we find Frigg. I’ll make you a deal,” he even goes so far as to promise. “I’ll keep helping Axl find Frigg, but the moment we do, you _never_ come back here.”

“You think words are going to stop me from coming back home? I know all your tricks, now, Anders. You can’t use your words to turn me against Elizabet and keep you out of the crossfire. I know you,” he promises, and fear pools in Anders’ stomach the likes of which he hasn’t truly felt since he was seventeen and his father left for the last time. “I’ll be around. If you boys are _good_ , I won’t have to come and offer you _incentives_ to get the job done quicker.”

He brushes the remnants of the sand granules from his hands and walks through the Johnson boys like he’s parting the Red Sea and not a single one of them goes after him. All these years and he still wields power over them like it’s just a game to him. Maybe it always has been.

“Fuck,” Mike exhales raggedly. 

“Yeah,” Anders agrees, feeling younger than he has since those days in Hawke’s Bay when he was doing his damn best to get the hell out because he couldn’t take one more night of Ty’s black eyes and Axl screaming at the top of his lungs and Mike trying to cope however he could. “He touches Axl, he dies,” he swears.

“No argument here,” Ty agrees vehemently. 

Olaf and Mike exchange a long look. For all that they’ve been apart, this is Odin and this is their little brother. This is their future and this is the nightmare from the past coming back to try and scare them with old tricks. They’re older, now, and they’re ready for this.

“Olaf,” Mike says, turning to their grandfather. “Get the goddesses and make sure we have their support. Ask Ingrid if Njordr has any accomplices. Ty? Look into dear old Dad’s mortal affairs. And Anders...?”

“I already have a plan,” Anders promises. 

“Is it a stupid plan?”

“No one gets arrested at the end of it?”

“So, it’s a bad plan,” Mike says. “Come on. You and I are going to go and have a talk with Axl about all the stories he never learned growing up because you don’t tell horror stories to a six year old,” he says darkly. 

“Welcome to the Johnson family,” Anders mutters as they disperse, “where nothing is normal and everything is worse than you could possibly imagine.”

“And they say being a god is something to envy.”

“Not on days like this,” Anders says, following after Mike as they embark down this reactive path while, nearby, the sea roars on without cessation.


End file.
